The Summoner's Sigil

by Renee Sebastian

  She stared at me blankly for a moment and then asked, “You think I would abuse my relationship with him in order to get my way?” It was with little surprise that she misconstrued my meaning. My serious friend still had a ways to go when it came to playful conversation.

  “Of course not.”

  “But you are still going away?” she asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. “I understand,” she replied solemnly.

  “You better not cry. I will not have the bride with puffy eyes during the wedding that I planned for her.” She looked up at me, and indeed her lashes sparkled in the early morning sun. “Besides, Abigail is dying to be your friend.”

  She smirked at that and said, “That was mean. Now I know where you get it.” She then threw my mother’s letter at me. I placed it aside and began brushing out her hair for the big event, but I couldn’t stop from thinking about what she had said. I hadn’t seen much of my family since I had been carted off to live with my Grandfather, who reluctantly took me in when I was fourteen. What was my family really like now? Would things be different since I was coming back a hero? Was I my mother’s child?

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  The late March blue sky was dotted with the occasional white fluffy cloud, since most of the factories were still closed, working on repairs. Warmer weather had moved in two days ago, and best yet, the clock in the tower had started functioning yesterday. We weren’t sure if it was going to happen, but Herr Drexler had called in some favors last week, and a crew of horologists had been flown in from Prussia to make the miracle happen.

  After the wedding, we all went back to the palace for an afternoon tea-party reception. Only thirty guests had been allowed in the tower for the wedding, including Ashley Lancaster, as Dorian’s best man, and Jeremy Tallow, as the ring bearer. But at the reception, there were to be at least a thousand in attendance. I knew that Wendy was no politician, but I also knew that Dorian would help guide her in that arena. Besides, no one wanted to offend the new Premier right now, so all transgressions would be overlooked while she learned her new role as both his wife and a member on the council.

  Once the sun started to set, we gave the couple a fond farewell, and I began the process of shutting down the party. I had a dirigible to catch in the morning, and my job was done here in London.

  Chapter 2

  Return of the Prodigal Daughter

  Rule number eleven: Travel is the heart of the Summoner’s art.

  I hated that I had to banish Calidum before I boarded the passenger dirigible. He was fast becoming one of my best friends, even if he was a three foot high, black skinned demon with extra sharp teeth and two long claws on each hand. Even though people understood that Summoner’s summoned demons, they still didn’t appreciate them riding in first class.

  Frankly, I was surprised Mother got passage for me directly after the wedding, as travel had been problematic lately. I was doubly astonished when I found myself at the captain’s table for the first night’s formal dinner. Only later did I learn that a helium tycoon had been bumped to the next available voyage three days later.

  If I spent more than a moment to contemplate it, I might have grown suspicious of her ulterior motives. I considered that it could simply be part of a hero’s homecoming. My perception of how I was going to be received couldn’t have been further from the truth when the airship finally touched down.

  There was no hero’s welcome, but in truth, I was thankful. The old Basil would have relished in the recognition, but that version had been burned to the ground months ago. The new Basil had risen from the ashes, one that was more cautious and reserved. As if to prove the point, I brought only one trunk, which was filled with mostly one old dress, several clean, if stained shirts, and a couple of pairs of pants. Also, contained in a small travel bag were my Rampuri and an obscene amount of greenbacks and gold dollars.

  Cold rain was sheeting the train platform when I flashed my official governor’s pass. He checked its number and then directed me to the transportation desk. I personally toted my small steamer on wheels to where he pointed.

  When I landed in Washington, I didn’t have an adjoining flight scheduled, so I needed to book passage to Napoleonville, my hometown. I just hoped I would not have to make another stop along the way besides at New Paris. Once I was close, I would contract a cab to bring me home.

  A lady about my age was behind the counter. Her loose bun was doing little to keep her blonde spiral curls contained. I observed that she was chewing gum with her mouth open while I asked after the adjoining flights.

  “Name,” she asked as she checked the schedule.

  “Miss Beckenbauer.”

  She rifled through a metal box filled with envelopes, and then she withdrew one. She handed it to me, and I could see clearly typed across the envelope my name. I flipped it over to the back and saw that it had been sealed shut with a gold presidential seal. I started to open it, but the girl quickly stopped me.

  “That there is a presidential seal, Miss Beckenbauer. If it is meant for you, press your finger in the middle of it. If it isn’t meant for you, and you still try to open it, you’ll be covered in ink in a matter of seconds and some sort of newfangled mojo science alarm will sound in the local constable’s office.” She popped a bubble and continued, “If it is for you, the gold seal will turn silver, and then you can open it.” She shut the window separating us, leaned back, and waited to see what would happen next.

  “Thank you.” I then did as she instructed and pressed the seal with my thumb. It grew warm and just as she promised it turned silver. I slid my finger under the flap and opened the envelope.

  I could hear the girl press a button and say, “The eagle has landed.”

  I turned away and pulled out a slip of paper from the envelope. It had another one of those presidential seals imprinted on the paper, but this time the gold threads had been woven into the very fibers of it.

  Salutations Miss Beckenbauer,

  We hope that the accommodations on the Altostratus were suitable. It was the best we could do in the time allotted to us. As you may have already guessed, we have need of your services as a consultant. There is a growing concern we have been observing in the Louisiana Territory. Our agent is waiting for you at your parent’s home. We have another airship, The Van Buren, arriving to pick you up from this station. Thank you for your cooperation in expediting this matter.

  Alice Newton

  N.

  Below Alice Newton’s printed name were two large calligraphic initials of A. N. in purple ink, which I doubted was actually her signature. My thoughts concerning her request were well, that didn’t take long.

  “Are there any connecting flights from here to New Paris?” I asked her.

  “No, but if you can wait another hour, there is a private passenger dirigible due to arrive to pick you up and bring you directly to Napoleonville,” she replied.

  That wasn’t going to be conspicuous, I thought sarcastically. I didn’t really have any time for President Newton, so if she expected something in return for fancy medals and air rides, she needed to learn that the new Miss Beckenbauer no longer traded favors for social standing.

  I gathered my composure and asked, “Where’s the closest train depot?”

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  It may have been a longer trip this way, but it was well worth it when I arrived at New Paris unnoticed. On the platform, I watched the clouds roll through the green sky for a moment. The rain had paused for the time being, but at the gift shop, I bought a black umbrella and a homespun woolen shawl, of a light blue and red plaid pattern. One never knew how the weather was going to be in a Louisianan spring.

  I took a moment to examine the empty pedestal where one of the patriotic statues of Thomas Edison used to be on display. I remembered with distaste which one used to be here, having travelled through this depot often. It had been of Edison wearing a toga
. He had been posed as an avenging angel with a sword in his raised hand which pointed towards the ceiling. I recalled how it had exceptionally well crafted wings that must have been at least twelve feet across from tip to tip. Careless people used to hit their heads on them all the time. I supposed the artist was going for a statue rather like the Hellenistic Nike of Samothrace.

  I hired out a mechcarriage for the lengthy journey to Assumption Parish. The weather was not unpleasant for late March. The air was not too chill, even though the rain had started again, gently rap-a-tat-tatting on the roof of the carriage. I drew the shawl tightly about me and then settled in for a long nap.

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  “Miss,” was followed by a knocking on the roof of the cab. “Miss, we have arrived.” I wiped the sleep from my eyes and found my billfold. It was early afternoon and the sun had yet to be seen, but at least the rain had stopped momentarily. Thank goodness, Dorian had packed greenbacks for me rather than pound notes, or the following transaction might have proven awkward. I needed to set up a bank account soon and get another charge ring straight away. It wasn’t safe travelling with all this money.

  I folded up the shawl and asked, “How much do I owe you?”

  “Two hundred greenbacks, or a hundred and a quarter silver dollars, or forty in gold.”

  I counted out the bills, and then pushed the little drape covering the window aside to look at Rose Glen. All I saw was Cypress trees and swamp. My lips drew into a tight line, because we hadn’t arrived at my parent’s estate. So he thought himself a highway robber. He had no idea with whom he had been transporting.

  As I only had knives on my person, I did the next best thing; I withdrew an ochre stick from my bag and used the roof of the cab to draw out the sigils that I would need to summon Calidum.

  The first marking I drew was a large diamond. From the north point of the diamond, I drew out a square with an oval encircling it. Next, I sketched out a design that was similar to a parallelogram with a set of intersecting triangles, which I placed as the east point. A star with a crescent for the south point, and then two circles on the end of two lines on the west and last point. Then I added a fleur-de-lis like design in the middle of the diamond, and after adding a few more marks, I determined I was ready to call for him.

  “Are you having any problems Miss?”

  “No, I’m simply situating myself after a long nap. I should only be a few more moments.”

  “I have to take other jobs or my children will go hungry Miss. Hurry it up.” I doubted he had children, since I hadn’t noticed a wedding band on his hand when I boarded earlier.

  Then I inscribed the Latin words Calidum conjuro te mihi in the diamond. Lastly, I spoke my words of invocation, which varied slightly for each casting, but sounded much like gobbledygook to non-practitioners. The sigils pulsed blue for a moment and ultimately died back to their ochre color. Then I leaned back in the seat and waited.

  He knocked hard on the window this time and said, “Miss, you better come out. There is a problem.”

  I’m sure there was. “No thank you. Please take care of it yourself.’

  “Miss, you better come out or these bullets are going to make a mess of that travelling outfit you are wearing.”

  Thump. “Hello Calidum.”

  “Nareep brumidon,” which I translated to, “Hello Mistress.”

  “Now Calidum, you will need to speak to me in the Queen’s tongue from this point onward, even when speaking to me before the company of others. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  “Excellent, now do you feel like having some fun with some evil people?”

  “Why do you keep associating yourself with evil people?” Calidum asked.

  “I don’t choose to associate with these buffoons. Rather, they seem to keep finding me.”

  “Very well. I will choose to help you this time, because it pleases me. But I won’t be with you forever.”

  “Who are ya’ talking to?” the driver asked. “You’re radioing in a call, ain’t ya’?”

  “You can leave anytime of your choosing,” I told Calidum nonchalantly. “If you would rather, I’ll handle this on my own.” I slipped two of my knives into my hands and went to lift the lever.

  Calidum sighed dramatically and said, “He smells bad too. Go ahead and light me.”

  “Thank you.” I took out my flint stone, struck it with one of my athames, and a spark flew out onto Calidum. He erupted into a pillar of demon fire, which enabled him to mostly pick and choose what he lit on fire. He also had the luxury of growing in size as well, so it wouldn’t be long before he outgrew this cab.

  “Open the door,” he growled.

  I unlocked the door and out he rushed, embraced in blue and red flames. The cab driver was suitably surprised as I watched Calidum jump onto him. Then the man caught on fire and ran towards the swamp, presumably to put himself out.

  While he was tending to himself, I climbed up the footstep onto the seat and then flipped the idle switch of the engine to the on position. My intent was to commandeer the carriage, but I hadn’t anticipated an accomplice. A gun muzzle was pressed to the temple of my head. This location was not coincidental, as he must have made it a predetermined rendezvous point with his partner.

  “Keep that lever on idle, and then lean back, slow like, if you want to keep your head on your shoulders,” came a very gruff voice to my left. Wendy would never have made this rookie mistake. He must have been hiding on the other side of the cab.

  “Sir, I believe you are quite mistaken. It is you that needs to lower your gun,” I informed him.

  “I saw the devil you conjured Summoner. You’ve broken the law and no one in a court of law, especially a judge, will care one lick if you were defending yourself. What you’ve done is illegal, no two ways about it.”

  “For your information, sir, I have a Medal of Freedom from President Newton in my bag, stating that I am an honored guest here in the states, and a piece of paper stating that no court of law would find me guilty for simply summoning Calidum. Your information is outdated.

  “However, I do feel it prudent to inform you that a demon is standing directly behind you, and he has positioned his six inch claws mere inches from either side of your neck, rather like an exceptionally large pair of scissors.” Calidum was no longer aflame and he was back to his normal size again. He must have dunked himself into the marshy swamp. The ruffian gulped loudly, looked at Calidum with only his eyes, and then he moved the pistol away from my head.

  “Your friend needs your help over there,” I told him, pointing towards the swamp. “I’ll leave your cab at the next town. In addition, I’ll hold you no ill will, should you cease and desist now from harming me and my own. But, and this is the important part, if you decide to seek me out to cause me harm in any manner, then Calidum will find you and yours and he will kill you all in your sleep.” He would probably be doing the world a favor if he did.

  I heard him gulp loudly a second time, and then he stepped down away from the seat.

  “Oh, and be a dear and stoke the fire for me before you head over there,” I ordered him. He rolled his eyes, but then glanced at Calidum. The boorish man sulked over to the belly of the mechanical beast and not only stoked it, but added a few more coals to it too. Smart man.

  “Remember, I will leave this contraption at the next town.” I then pushed the button to make the carriage move. If this had been a real horse, I would have merely unharnessed it and ridden it all the way home. But as it was, Calidum had settled in the cab for his turn for a nap, and I would carry on in this contrivance until we reached the city of Convent. Once there, I would rent a horse or another carriage, and then I would take the Joliet Bridge, crossing the La Salle River from St. James Parish into Assumption Parish.

  After registering in Napoleonville, I would then take a north westerly turn to St. Vincent Bayou, since that was where my family’s estate was located. My grandfather’s home
was further west, on the shoreline of Lake Verret, which was located on the other side of the Red Forest, but still within Assumption Parish’s borders.

  Even though my family held land holdings and large investments that yielded hefty returns for them annually, we owned no working farms or industries. They were the leisurely rich. Neither of my parents had any special abilities. They had attended the local Deist church named Our Flawless Father every Sunday, until the accident happened. Now they only occasionally made the trip into Convent to attend services at Church of Noble Knowledge.

  The closest Estonian church was in Convent, and it was located in the backroom of a cobbler’s shop. As there were few Users in Assumption, there wasn’t a need for its own building. I went there once out of curiosity and sneezed the entire meeting from the strong odors of freshly tanned leather and the glue used to adhere soles. Needless to say, I never went back for a service.

  The last time I had been there was six years ago with Grandpa. He had paid Pastor Robert Ensley a brief visit before travelling on for my on-the-job-training in a neighboring parish. When your skill was officially illegal, one often had to travel far and wide to keep your abilities under the radar, and heavens knew there weren’t enough people in our hometown to support a Summoner, let alone their apprentice too.

  The wind had changed direction, and the rain and the steam from the mechcarriage blew into my face. I couldn’t find the lever that would release the glass shield that would have protected me from it, so I attempted to steer the carriage from side to side for the last five miles.

  By the time I arrived in Convent, the rain had momentarily stopped, but I could still hear thundering in the distance. I checked the weather bulletin for Napoleonville back in New Paris, and the heavy rain wasn’t expected to move in until tomorrow afternoon.

  The city was surrounded by an orange colored clay brick wall, and once I got close to it, I abandoned the carriage in a copse. Before approaching the entry gate, I took out my governor’s pass. I showed the guards my pass, and I was allowed through with no questions asked. I told them that Calidum was a hairless hybrid between a bird and a cat, and they believed me. Bioengineers were making more and more hybrids for the pet industry these days.